


gossamer wings and bog water

by GRIMMInsanity



Series: watercolor borders [1]
Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: AUs maybe, Drabbles, F/M, Prompt Fill, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-12 00:32:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3337724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GRIMMInsanity/pseuds/GRIMMInsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>testing deep waters with both feet is dangerous. </p><p>but when you stand at the water's edge, you know it is for a reason. </p><p> </p><p>(in which marianne and the bog king stumble through their new relationship.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. speak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> speak  
>  _to communicate, signify, or disclose by any means; convey significance._

She enjoyed the sound of his voice.

The rough tilt of something unmistakably foreign, something not exactly harsh, but seemed almost grating compared to the sweet voices of her people. When, in the beginning, her sister was taken, his words, so cool and mocking, had sent something shivering through her. she could never understand what it was back then, but now, oh, now she understood.

It was fear.

It was awe.

It was attraction.

He had the bearing of royalty, of power, and of raw predatory sense. 

Marianne could feel her wings shiver in place, twitching, uncertain and nervous. She grasped the hilt of her sword, as if ready to pull it from it's sheathe and combat her worries and fears. however, she knew it was futile. this was not something she could fight physically, and certainly, not on her own.

Dawn didn't offer much in the ways of reassurance aside from her warm smile and fingers twining with hers in comfort. It was not her place to, not yet her battle.

And so, they waited.

When the sound of wings could be heard outside the main doors of the castle of the Fields of Light, both faeries perked in interest. It was different from the flap of fairy wings, the sweet billow of stained glass made real. it was the hum of dragonfly wings, strong and rhythmic. Marianne felt her heart sing up into her throat, and watched as the guards pushed open the doors to allow the guest entrance.

She bypassed their uncomfortable stares, eyes following the unimaginably tall monarch as he stepped into the main hall.

And there he stood, wings twitching and relaxing back down behind him, a powerful and imposing figure that had set her heart racing. The setting sun behind him washed him in orange and red and brown, and his blue eyes, so bright, trailed for a moment, and then, caught sight of the two sisters. After a brief moment, the lanky figure of the Bog King moved forward, purpose held in his stride.

He said nothing as he stopped before them and unfurled his fingers, - long, like everything else about him, - out to her. She briefly remembered another time, another time where trust and support was offered, and with that, she stretched her own hand out and took his.

His blue eyes, pale as a robin's egg, seemed to glow, and the smile that curled upon his lips was almost as nervous as her own, but oh so sweet.

Her wings fluttered, moving for a moment in a whisper, and as if he understood, - he may as well have, - his own wings hummed in return. The setting sun behind them framed them, and Marianne looked at the Bog King, watched the straight back stance curl inward, toward her, and to the focal point of their hands.

Gone was the fierce king of the dark forest, powerful and deadly, and in his place, a quiet man she had fallen in love with, stooped to offer support, just as nervous as she was to see her father. 

He hummed softly at her, a quiet question, and she nodded, and began to lead the way to the throne room, the sound of Dawn's wings whispering between the sounds of their footsteps. 

"This will work."

His voice rumbled at her, a wave of sound that was exotic and thrilling on the ears when they stopped before the great doors. She looked to him, and found his eyes on her. The words were simple, quietly spoken between the two of them, even with the second pair of guards at the door trying their best not to listen in, and she felt herself inhale sharply.

There was affection there, and care, and love, and Marianne felt herself expand with emotion with the steadfast surety of his words.

With a simple nod to him, a squeeze of fingers between one another, the guards were motioned to open the doors and the pair moved forward to stand in the great throne room. The Fairy king looked on, eyes uncertain and pausing on their twined hands, but ready to hear out what was to be said.

The Bog King straightened his back, set his staff beside him, and turned to look at the opposing monarch, and she could only feel breathless as that same ferocity from before entered those eyes. The same predatory sense of knowing he was going into a battle he had to get out of, with victory so close at hand.

His voice was never cold, nor mocking when he spoke of the two of them, but patient and warm, and the slow lit of his accent was so very clear now when he opened his mouth to speak.

She breathed easy.


	2. dim.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dim  
>  _not clear to the mind; vague._

Bog could simply feel his patience beginning to dwindle. 

This was now the fourth week in a row in the month following the Incident, as members of both kingdoms, began to call it, that he had traveled to the Light Fields and come to speak with the monarch. As much as the Bog King had lost because of said Incident, his castle being one of the major things, the Fairy King was still cautionary around him to offer support. It took a week simply to convince the old monarch to offer some of his army to help them clear through the rubble of the old castle.

The goblins had in turn began work on their new home, a great oak tree with roots that dug deep beneath the earth. it was pleasant feeling, being surrounded by the earthy scent of the dirt and the woody smell of the bark, and bog knew that it would be a perfect, - and safe, - castle for he and his subjects.

That aside, rebuilding had not been the main question between the kingdoms that had to be settled.

It was in the sense of creating a treaty.

They would be allies, coming to the call if they needed assistance, and even opening up the option of trade between the kingdoms. While it was a strange idea, it was not unheard of, as centuries before, the connections between the Light Fields and the Dark Forest had been well entwined with one another. 

Tipping his head, he glanced at Marianne who sat at the end of the table and was currently offering up the pros of how this agreement could work between them. In return, her father hummed and hawed, and rebuked them with the cons of how such a thing would not work.

He watched at how she was forceful with her words, but not disrespectful, keeping in mind what was being held in the balance. He still could not understand how in his life, he had found such a perfect creature to have at his side.

The way her eyes shined, bright and vivid as she explained trade routes and border patrols had his breath catching, had his lips pulling up in a simply mystified smile. They had only begun their relationship after the Incident when they had a moment to sit aside and talk about what they wanted to do from there. Both had agreed to keeping it slow and cautious, even if there was bright affection and love in both of their stares, tender care in the way their hands brushed. 

"Right, Bog?" 

The monarch twitched at his name, and settled his gaze back onto the faery proper.

"...what?"

Marianne huffed, sending him a stern look, and waved a hand to her father, who was looking on in mild discomfort and quiet patience. He felt his wings flutter and his back spines clack for a moment at being found out at day dreaming.

"I was telling my father that creating the alliance would offer up the possibility of faery ware and goblin ware being exchanged and the ability to share different plants and herbs to be used in medicines. I'm certain that there are some flora in the Dark Forest that could be beneficial to our kingdom. "

He blinked at her, at the smooth way she explained this, and he noted, with a touch of pride, at the way she was stepping into her crown. It would not be long before it passed on to her, he considered, looking to her father, but she still had the time to learn and to become a great queen.

Something about those words sent a pleasant hum down his spines. 

"Aye, it could be very possible. Over my trips coming here and back over the border, I've noticed that there are certain plants I've never seen before and certainly none of the Dark Forest's flora about, aside from the border. It is a solid idea as our healers can speak with yours in return. Our craftsmakers could also trade wares and learn."

"See? It can work!" Marianne sang back at her father, clear and triumphant. However, the light monarch's wings fluttered for a moment behind him, and he glanced to the Bog King.

"But what about our cultures and customs? As stated before, I am positive that there are differences between our lands aside from the physical means." The king huffed, leaning back against his tall chair. "This would cause quite a bit of trouble if one of our kingdom insulted your own. While I can understand being allies and coming to each others aid, is there honestly a need to blend the border?"

The dark monarch stiffened at his words and narrowed his eyes. well, of course their cultures would be different! What would he expect? That they flew all by the faeries' way of things? Hardly! He was about to give the king a bit of his mind when Marianne's wings fluttered up, twitching into his line of sight for a moment, and he saw the stare she was giving him.

He knew that look, knew what it meant in this situation, and he tipped his nose up with a huff, wings buzzing in a brief round. The king glanced between his daughter and the Bog King with a furrowed brow. Breathing in for a moment, Bog looked on to the king and raised an impressive brow at him. It would not be best to lose his cool now of all times.

"This offers the chance that both kingdoms can learn about the other. What would happen in the case that your army came to help my own and attacked my subjects should you confuse them with the enemy?" The great king said nothing to that, realizing it was quite true, as any fairy would attack a goblin without a thought if it was deemed dangerous. "Learning our customs as well offers strengthened bonds between the people, offering a tighter alliance."

Marianne was nodding her head at this, eyes on him. Glancing to her, he noted the seriousness in which she was listening to him, drinking in every word that slipped from his lips. His spines clacked down his back again and he tried to ignore the feeling of desire to puff out his chest a bit for her.

"I... see your point." The king stated, words cool, eyes on his daughter in consideration. "It will be a thought to be kept on the table, as you do realize, both of our subjects will be tough to convince the other has no darker meanings behind their backs."

The Bog King snorted at that statement, and glanced toward his staff, leaning back against his own tall chair. It was in easy reach, but considering the last four weeks of him not having it in his hands, aside from his arrival and departure, he felt mildly amused at the still nervous caution.

The guards even kept a watchful eye on him, and he wondered if it was because he was who he was or simply that sort of attention was given to all before the king, faery, elf, and goblin alike.

He considered it a bit of both, he supposed.

Bog caught the king's eyes as he looked away from his staff, the stare serious and calculating.

"Of course, it shall be hard, but as some of your soldiers are already in my lands, helping us dig through the ruins of my former castle, my subjects will soon realize that with this alliance, there is a chance for a stronger front." He remarked, before leaning forward, elbows on the table, locking his fingers together to set his chin there comfortably. "Lesson one of Goblin culture: Any and all of the Dark Forest respect power, as the king has to be strong enough to protect his people in all cases. Should he be unable, he shall be removed."

The king nodded in understanding, also knowing the concept of needing to be a strong and powerful ruler to keep his people pleased. Bog assumed that, should he become too forceful or unjust, the people could revolt against him. In the Dark forest, the opposite was the truth of the matter. if the king was too weak willed and flighty, there was a chance of an attack being placed on him for a fight for the throne.

It was all quite headache inducing, in Bog's personal opinion.

The silence drifted on between them, both having fallen quiet. Marianne twitched between them, disliking the mutual silence between the two monarchs that she barely had an understanding of at the moment. She could keep still for long period of time, but when it came to political battles and agreements, she found all the spiderwebs slow moving and uncomfortable.

"Alright." The king finally said, and Bog sat up at his voice. "We shall sign this treaty in a year's time."

Bog's wings buzzed behind him in mild confusion, and dare he say, relief, and Marianne's own eyes looked on, bright at having worn down her father. Bog, however, stared, waiting for the catch that hung off the king's words.

"However, we shall need to see how your subjects and my own subjects work together and if there is a chance of this alliance not working between our two kingdoms. From then on, we may sign the treaty when we meet again, and work on furthering our connections." 

Marianne's hands twitched on the table and the smile he could see growing across her lips had his own lips curling up in a similar smile.

The future was dim before them, but it was there.


	3. storm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> storm  
>  _a violent disturbance of the atmosphere with strong winds and usually rain, thunder, lightning, or snow._

The sound of the world outside, while muffled, was loud.

Marianne huffed slightly and felt her wings quiver at the deluge that came tumbling through the trees. She was safe where she sat, just inside the great maw of the castle, and peered out toward the darkness of the forest.

It was strange.

When it rained in her kingdom, the rain never felt so close. It was safe within their stone castle, the doorways and windows everywhere shut tight against the buffeting winds and the dripping waters. A great shock of thunder rumbled through the great forest, and she felt the vibration more then heard it, rumbling through the tree, singing through her bones and vibrating her thin wings. It sent a slight thrill through her at the raw power ringing in her body.

Spring was ending.

The warmth of the night was balmy and humid, and she could feel the changing of the season as clearly as she could feel a touch on her wings. The spring showers would end within a fortnight, of course. Instead, there would be a blazing sun and everyone running to take a dip in nearby ponds. She didn't mind them, honestly, but the heat often made her tired, wanting nothing more then to curl up in a cool place and nap for a while. That and she had very little she could take off before she was considered inappropriately dressed by the court. 

Even in the hottest season on the hottest day, a royal should always look their best.

She was startled momentarily when a throat cleared behind her, and spun around to peer into the dim light of the castle. A tall frame, lanky and thin stood just inside, peering at her curiously with bright blue eyes.

"Enjoyin' the rain?" Bog asked.

Marianne snorted for a moment, and then, turned back, rolling her shoulders in a shrug. "I suppose."

Bog moved forward, creeping closer to the entrance, to her side, and glanced at her.

"You suppose?" He asked, one brow quirked at her. "Is it not to your likin', your highness?"

The fairy let out a laugh, swatting a hand at one of his long legs, and the little chuckle he returned had a smile pulling at her lips. She would have preferred being inside during this sort of storm, but it sounded so _different_ here that she just had to creep over and take a peek outside. She somehow ended up getting stuck just sitting and watching the rain fall.

"It's not that. It's just.. weird." She told him bluntly, pausing for a moment, before quickly correcting herself. "You all do it quite differently here."

The monarch snorted and, after a pause, sat down beside her on the wooden floor. It was a root of the tree that they had sat themselves down on, curling under the great castle that led back into the tunnels. The goblins had done impressive work for the short time they had to move the king into his new home. They had used another skull, of course, to keep a sort of cover over the entrance, - though Marianne supposed it was to keep the tree looking threatening to all, really, - and it offered them the view of the forest, framed by some great creature's teeth. 

"How so?"

His question broke into her thoughts, and she glanced at him again. Bog wasn't watching her, but at the falling rain, looking for all things relaxed and content. 

"We don't really keep our castle open like this during the rain." She explained, eyes turning back to follow his into the forest. "We shut everything. Doors, windows; we shut them tight to make sure none of the wind gets inside, that none of the _water_ gets inside."

The Bog King blinked, turning to look at her in confusion, and she wondered why such a stare would be directed at her like that. He pursed his lips, and tilted his head, eyes still confused, but tinged in curiosity. He glanced at her shivering wings and his own wings shivered with her own.

"And why is that? Do you not let the rain clear your castle?" His voice was genuinely curious, confused, but willing to learn. "We don' let any of the water in, but the smell of the rain often keeps the castle from smellin' too musty. Goblins often use the rain to bathe too." 

Marianne turned and peered at him, her own a look of astonishment. She never really thought about that. For all the stereotypes of the Dark Forest and the goblins, she only now realized that she really never smelled a stink from any of the goblins. Of course, they wouldn't smell like the floral or sweet fairies, but then, living in an old tree stump? She was astonished to find that they even took time to do that.

It was quite an insulting thought, and so she berated herself at the idea that they wouldn't bathe. Of course they would! Fairies did as well, but it was during the day, when they could get a chance to dry their wings by the warmth of the sun. During the winter, they often used the fires in their rooms to make sure their wings did not freeze.

"We can't get wet."

Bog blinked at her, pausing for a moment to look her over, from her brunette head to her toes, and waved a hand in a way that told her he had not understood.

"Our wings. We can't get them wet." She paused for a moment to move said wings, pulling them up to flutter them at him, and then moved them away a little too quickly. "If they get wet, we won't be able to fly for a few hours at least. We need to make sure they dry fully or they won't work right."

The king tilted his head at this new information, watching the easy movement of her wings, the barest tremor in them, and how quickly they caped back down her back. His own wings pulled up to buzz for a moment, and then, he hummed softly. The sound was lost as another rumble of thunder trailed outside, and they both waited for it to pass before he continued speaking.

"Is that why you were so adamant upon staying here?" His wings tucked back down, spine relaxing into a comfortable line.

"Yeah, I knew there was a storm coming when I headed over here, but I thought I still had time before it started to rain." Marianne explained, and he nodded his understanding. "I got so distracted checking out the new castle while waiting for you, and I sort of, well... forgot?"

The sheepish smile she gave him made him blink, and then he laughed, a warm rich sound that made her pleasantly warm and her cheeks flush. She glanced away, mildly embarrassed, and he simply placed a hand gently upon her shoulder when his laughter trickled off just right.

"It's no worry, Marianne. I - _We_ don't mind you staying here." There was a hiccup in his words, and she looked over at him as he quickly stumbled to correct himself, long-fingered hand pulling away.

Suddenly, the warm and relaxed king with his light laughter was gone and in his place, a shy and lightly tongue-twisted man. Marianne couldn't help but smile, and watch as the opposite hand came up to quickly rub at the back of his neck, all nervous energy in his twitching fingers. 

She found both sides of him attractive: the strong and powerful monarch of a fierce kingdom and the nervous and bashful man who was still uncomfortable talking about his feelings. After a silent inhale, for courage, Marianne turned to look back out into the forest, and then moved. It was a slow movement, careful and uncertain, but still she slid a hand over, her pinky curling with his gently.

It was a small moment of contact, but it made the blood rush to her face and made her heart pick up it's own rumbling beat like a tide of thunder.

Marianne felt Bog stiffen at the moment of contact, but she didn't dare look at him, didn't want to see what expression he made, and instead began to count the teeth that the skull bared at the outside world.

His hand moving out from under hers made her heart lurch for a moment, but it returned, just as cautious, just as careful, and curled over her hand, warm and gentle. She felt her heart skip for a moment. Glancing over at him, - Marianne felt like her heart was in the throat, - she found his own gaze turned resolutely away, his own embarrassment obvious in the tight press of his wings against his back. 

Breathing in, she felt a giddy sort of smile curl onto her lips, and she tangled their fingers together, a surety in her grasp that had the spines on the great king's neck clacking and his wings shivering with relieved tension.

With that, they fell silent and watched the rain fall.


End file.
